Husband and I recently realized that we are coffee snobs. It was actually kind of funny, because we realized it separately but on the same day. In an attempt to trim our grocery budget to the last available penny while in what we called “crazy house saving mode” I purchased a can of store-brand coffee instead of the usual Folgers dark roast. (Oh and p.s., I know that real coffee snobs would never drink Folgers) We drank it for a few weeks, but one day I was at work sipping it and I thought to myself, “I’m gonna have to tell Husband tonight that this stuff is too gross for me. I am officially too good for it.” However he beat me to it later that day when he sent me a text that he too was hating the store brand beans. We were going to try to finish it off, but of course that can of coffee is turning out to be a bottomless pit of bitter granules.
My love affair with coffee goes back to the LCU caf in 2006. I was faced with all-nighters and group projects and other last-minute homework situations, and the caf’s cappuccino machine became my friend. The ratio of froth to coffee gradually shifted, and now I have what some people would call a full-blown habit.
My relationship with coffee is a little strange. It is both a requirement and a pleasure in my day. I have to have a cup every weekday morning, otherwise I will be a bit cranky and have a headache to deal with at some point. But on weekends we make a 12-cup pot with our amazing Cuisinart that freshly grinds the beans and we relish polishing it off. In our new house, I am planning on having a ‘coffee bar’, which you may have seen on Pinterest. The more I think about it, it is basically a shrine to my favorite beverage, ha! I will post pictures once I get it all put together.
I also find it funny that people are so particular about their coffee. I personally love a good heaping spoonful of CoffeeMate. Husband needs a little Splenda and a little creamer. My brother is super manly and his preference for black only is an outcropping of that (I suspect). Both of my grandfathers are purists and will only drink Folgers Original. None of that “flavored crap” as my Pops would say. Oddly enough their opinions are similar to the ‘real’ coffee snob hipsters who will only allow fair trade beans grown on a specific mountain rinsed with “the tears of alpacas” (see this link for a funny comic by The Oatmeal on coffee snobs and alpaca tears) to fill their mustachioed mugs.
Do you also have a passion for the coffee bean? Are you crazy-particular about it?
There is no doubt in my mind that caffeine is one powerful drug, and one that comes in quite a tasty form. Perhaps I need to put as much passion into other areas as I do my morning cup.